We the Children

“Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall.”

The children sing on the bus

Off to a day of screaming and running

Never thinking of us.

 

They climb and they jump

And they yell and they shout

They laugh and they whisper

While taking strange routes.

 

Never looking forward they rush on ahead

And sometimes are happy and free

But here in the future looking back

I hardly can recognize me.

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